


Ties That Bind

by romanticalgirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl





	Ties That Bind

Blood and ink still stain the floor.   
Harry doesn't look at them as he moves through the chamber, almost hypnotized. He's never considered that he and Tom have things in common, never thought that it would be so easy to take the legend that was thrust upon him and become something more horrible, powerful and dangerous than Lord Voldemort could ever hope to be. He doesn't have those thoughts. 

All he thinks about is her. 

He knows he shouldn't. He knows it's wrong and she's off limits and she's not interested in him. He knows that he should be hexed for the ways he thinks about her, the ways he imagines her. He knows it's wrong because he has to come down here to do it, has to hide from her and his friends and himself, because if they knew, if he even let himself think about it… 

He caresses himself through his slacks, his robe spread open and apart as he leans back against the face of Salazar Slytherin, not noticing the hard press of rock against his back as his hand presses against the bulge in his pants. He imagines her before him, all demure in her robes, her hair shining in the pale light, her skin smooth, her lips parted as she licks them. 

He begins stroking through the fabric, the sounds in his head supplied by the porn movie Dudley was watching one night while his parents were at some block meeting. He'd spent the night trying to block the sounds out and ended up doing what he's doing now, only his hand was on his cock for real, stroking it in time to the grunts and groans that came from the tinny speakers down the hall. 

She unbuttons her robe and lets it fall from her shoulders. If he had more imagination, he supposes he could picture her naked, but instead, she's still in her Hogwart's uniform. He's seen naked pictures and knows what women look like, but she's different, not used and spent and exposed like the page three girls or the models in the magazines Fred and George have in their trunks. 

Her tie is loose though and she's not wearing her vest. The shirt is pristine white and not quite see-through, but he can make out the tips of her nipples pressing against the fabric as she moves closer. His hand curves around his cock and he thinks he should probably unzip his pants because the rub of the fabric is distracting and almost painful, but it's a game of sorts and he has to last long enough. Has to. 

She undoes her tie slowly, just loosening it enough to get to the first button. She undoes it and he grunts hotly, scrambling for his belt and the fly of his slacks, stretched tight over his cock, the seam of the crotch uncomfortable against his balls. He sighs with simple relief as they loosen, moving his zipper in time with her hands as she unfastens her shirt, letting the white fall away, the tie still hanging loosely around her neck, the thickness of it between her breasts. 

Her bra is the same white as her shirt, lacy and probably cotton and he wonders how it would feel beneath his hands as he slides one hand beneath his pants and over his boxers, the wet stain of his excitement cool against his palm. 

He knows nothing of how they work, but suddenly her bra is loose and falling away and she's naked from the waist up except for her tie. He groans and feels his hips jerk, his head rough and sore from where it's rubbed against the rock of the founder's face. He wants to shove his pants down and feel his cock, but he knows the minute he touches it he'll lose all control and it'll be a race to undress her in his mind before he comes. So instead, he lets his hips rock, carefully tracing his fingers just around the outline of his cock, occasionally letting them slip down to feather over his balls. 

She comes closer, sliding the zipper of her skirt down. He gives in and peels away his boxers, glad his robe is beneath him as he raises his hips and thrusts the fabric down, the rock still cool on his skin despite the layer. The cool feels good considering how hot he is, how hot his cock feels as he wraps one hand around the base and lets the other play over the velvety skin of his shaft. Her skirt falls to the floor and she steps out of it, leaving a trail behind her so she can find her way back out of his imagination. 

Her panties are white as well, all pure and innocent, the shadow of her dark hair hinting through the thin material. He curves his fingers around the tip of his cock and presses his lips together in a hard groan, the coil of his arousal snaking through his stomach and lower, sliding lower. 

Her fingers curve under the waistband and she pushes her panties down, letting them slide down her smooth legs. His breath catches and he adjusts his feet, pressing them hard against the stone as he forces long strokes along his shaft. He wants to increase his speed, let everything explode out of him, but she's so close and so naked and her body is all cream and sunlight, her hair a wild tangle that he wants to thrust his hands into and her bloody tie just taunts him and he wants to grab it and pull her to him and kiss her and touch her and thrust his cock inside her. 

His hand moves on its own and he's so close now he can practically taste the need to come on his tongue. She's standing at his feet and her body is ripe for him, nipples hard, the smell of sex in the air. Her legs are parted just enough that he's taunted, tantalized and he finds the head of his cock easily, his hand moving faster and faster as she sinks to her knees and whispers his name before opening her lips and closing her mouth around his cock. 

Harry groans long and hard as he comes, his hand pumping faster and faster as the stream spills from his body. He's shaken and spent, not caring that his clothes are wet and uncomfortable or that his heart is racing. He swallows air, gulping it down as he struggles to sit up, to force his fantasy back into his head safely out of sight, where no one else can ever find it.


End file.
